


Backroad Saints

by DeanRH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26728837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanRH/pseuds/DeanRH
Summary: Two brothers take on vigilante justice against the supernatural on the backroads of America.Boondock Saints Supernatural AU.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 19
Kudos: 10





	1. And Shepherds We Shall Be

**Author's Note:**

> This idea stuck in my head and would not go away. Boondock Saints is a fantastic movie with a lot of elements that Supernatural fans would love, and when I got the idea of a Sam and Dean version it wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> This story will be very loosely based on the film, some characters will be changed around, etc. More like "if Supernatural was made in the style of Boondock Saints" than an outright retelling.
> 
> Except Willem Dafoe, because there is really nobody like him. Willem Dafoe stays exactly the same.

_"Now, we must all fear evil men. But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most, and that is the indifference of good men,"_ the priest's voice boomed through the cathedral.

Sam and Dean Winchester stood outside of the church as they listened to the priest finish his sermon.

They pulled out the crucifixes they wore around their neck and prayed.

" _And shepherds we shall be,_

 _For thee, my Lord, for thee._ "

They both kissed their crucifixes, and dropped them back beneath the collars of their shirts.

Dean smiled at Sam in the bright sunlight.

"I think the monsignor is finally starting to get it," he said.

Sam grinned back.


	2. Prayer

"What am I looking at here?"

Dozens of dead bodies littered the diner. 

"And who the hell are you?"

The blond man with the cadaverous face gave the officer a _look._

"FBI Special Agent Paul Smecker," he said. "Little less attitude, please...Detective Greenly?"

"Sorry, sir," said Greenly. "Well, I think they came in here and mowed down a bunch of people."

"Astute," said Smecker, in a bitingly sarcastic tone. "Incredibly astute. Where do they find you guys? Go and get me some coffee."

"I'm not getting you coffee," said Greenly. "I'm not getting him coffee!"

"I heard it was the Saints," said another cop.

"The what?" asked Smecker. 

"Couple of vigilantes," she said. "All over the States."

"This looks like vigilante justice to you?" asked Smecker. "And you are?"

"Officer Chaffey, sir," he said.

"Saints. Yeah, I heard about them," said Smecker. "They are two ordinary men who were put in an extraordinary situation and they just happened to come out on top. Yes, nothing from our far reaching computer system has turned up jack shit on these two. And the general consensus from the public is..."

He raised his eyes to the ceiling and fluttered his hands.

"...that they're _angels._ "
    
    
     ***

_TWENTY -FOUR HOURS EARLIER_

"Jo, you wanna slide that beer down here?"

"You wanna bite me?"

"Do your job, Joanna Beth," Ellen said, swatting her daughter with a bar towel.

"Mom," Jo complained, but slid the beer down the bar anyway.

"Thanks," said Dean, lifting the bottle. She made a face at him.

"So get this," said Sam, turning his laptop to show Dean. "There's been _another_ killing in the next town over."

"Demons?" 

"That's my guess."

"Somebody really ought to be doing something about that."

"Good thing there's us," said Ellen. "You boys in a spot of trouble over Decatur?"

"Might be," said Dean. "So far so good though."

"That was messy," she said. "You boys oughtta be more careful."

"We'll try," said Sam. 

"You made the news," said Jo. " _Drifter Serial Killers Strike Again_."

"Man," Dean complained. "Why they gotta always add _serial killer_ after _drifter?_ Seems like it's in every damn movie or show or book, like people who travel from state to state are always murderers."

"Well, I mean," said Jo. "Technically, I guess we are?"

"We're doing God's work, Jo, you know that," said Sam.

"I know, you know, Mom knows," said Jo. "Do _they_ know?"

Sam and Dean were silent.

"That's the problem," said Ellen. "Look, guys, I'm gonna have to shut down the bar - "

The door swung open, new patrons walked in. 

Sam and Dean looked over their shoulders at them, but nobody paid them any mind.

"Wow, Ellen, since when did you get the dinner rush?" asked Dean, impressed.

But Ellen's eyes were cold.

"Never," she said.

"Hello, boys," said a man in a trucker's cap.

His eyes flashed black.

***

The Winchesters pulled out the crosses around their necks and kissed them.

"And Shepherds we shall be, for Thee my Lord, for Thee," they said quietly in unison. "Power hath descended forth from Thy hand, our feet may swiftly carry out Thy commands. So we shall flow a river forth to Thee, and teeming with souls shall it ever be. In nomine Patri, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti."

Then they drew their weapons.

***

The Winchesters stood over the bodies surrounding them. 

Ellen and Jo nodded to each other.

"Seein' as this is the end of the road for the Roadhouse," said Ellen, "you boys better get a move on."

"We can't let you take the fall for this, Ellen," said Sam.

"Don't worry," she said. "We won't. We're hightailin' it outta here. You boys better get gone."

"Great," said Dean. "Another one for the _drifter serial killers_ , I guess."

"Some people think you're doing good," Jo offered. "They call you the Saints."

Sam gave her a sardonic smile.

"Thanks, Jo," he said. "Take care. Ellen, you too."

Ellen nodded, then gave her head a sharp jerk toward the doorway.

The brothers nodded in return, and they went out the door, climbed into their gleaming, long black car, and kicked up dust as they left the parking lot of the Roadhouse.

***

"Now, I ask you," said Smecker. "What kind of vigilantes murder ten people in cold blood?"

"Uh, sir?" ventured Chaffey. "I know all these guys."

"What?" asked Smecker. "How?"

"Some of 'em are on America's Most Wanted lists," he said. "And a couple of local criminals. This guy ran a dogfighting ring."

Smecker sighed and put a hand over his eyes.

"Great," he said. "Just great. This is gonna play well in Middle America."

He looked over at Greenly, who had just brought his coffee.

"I might be wanting a bagel with my coffee."

***

Back at the station, Smecker drank his coffee and stared at the people surrounding him.

He shook his head.

"These guys are miles away by now," Greenly said, "but if you wanna beat your head against a wall, then here's what you're looking for: they're scared, like two little bunny rabbits. Anything in a uniform or flashing blue lights is gonna spook 'em, okay? So the only thing we can do is put a potato on a string and drag it through the countryside, "Thanks for coming out!"

"Thought those guys were Scottish, not Irish," said Chaffey. 

"You'd be better off with a beer," said a voice.

Smecker looked up to see Sam and Dean entering the police station. 

"Yeah, you would," agreed Sam.

Smecker looked up and grinned.

"Aw, fuck," said Greenly.

"Hey Greenly," said Smecker. "Onion bagel, cream cheese." 


	3. The Station

Sam and Dean Winchester were men of faith.

Their father had taught them to be, starting from the night their mother had burned to death on the ceiling.

They had grown up aware of the supernatural, of demonic forces, and had fought them ever since. The recent string of demonic killings meant that something was up, and only Sam and Dean knew about it.

Dean, for his part, had started to lose faith long ago. But it was difficult, when prayer brought results the way it did for them. He never mentioned it to his brother, who had been a baby the night their mother died, and so had never known a time of the faithless.

Both of them knew, however, what it looked like to the outside world.

They didn't look like heroes.

They looked like the monsters.

***

"Serial killing across state lines," said Smecker, taking a bite out of his bagel. "I mean, kinda showy for a couple of macho guys, isn't it?"

"How does he know?" Sam asked Dean, in Latin.

"Maybe he's just very, very good," Dean replied in the same language.

"You guys speak a lot of languages?" asked Smecker.

They smiled at him.

"Who taught you?" 

"Our father," said Sam.

"What should we tell him about the demons?" Dean asked in rapid-fire Gaelic.

"Nothing, he doesn't need to know," Sam shot back in the same language.

"Impressive," said Smecker. "Very impressive. Now, can you tell me what happened back there?"

They exchanged looks.

***

_The demon had Dean's gun to Sam's head._

_"I was going to kill you," he said to Dean, whose hands were up, "but I'm not...I'm going to kill your brother. I'm going to shoot him in the head, and then leave his dead body in the garbage."_

_It looked at its watch._

_"Trash guys are coming in 10 minutes," he said, his finger on the trigger._

***

Smecker stared at Dean.

Dean smiled.

"There ain't nothin' we won't do for family," he said, holding Smecker's gaze.

"What the hell are you guys doing, living on the road?" asked Smecker. 

Sam and Dean laughed.

The door opened.

"We have a problem," said Chaffey. "The press are outside. They're going nuts for these guys."

"Fuck," said Smecker. "We could do the bag-over-the-head thing? It's up to you guys, you're not being charged."

"Can we stay here?" asked Sam.

"We have an empty holding cell," said Chaffey. "They can...can they stay?"

Smecker grinned.

"We'll have to check with your mother," he said, "but it's okay with me if your friends sleep over."

***

The Winchester brothers were asleep in their cots.

A water leak started to drip down from the ceiling, and split in two.

The water dripped down onto each brother's forehead, and they began to struggle in their sleep.

Both of their hands reached up simultaneously, as if stretching out for something on the wall.

Suddenly, they sat up, faces going from darkness into the light.

Their eyes opened. They looked at each other as water dripped down onto the floor between them.

"Destroy all that which is evil," said Dean.

"...so that which is good may flourish," said Sam.

***

The following morning, the Winchesters were set free.

Chaffey dropped a newspaper in front of them.

"The Saints of the Backroad," screamed the headline.

"Saints?" asked Dean. 

***

They were on the road again before noon.

"I can't _fuckin'_ believe we got away with that," crowed Dean.

"I don't know, Dean, that guy - "

"Smecker?"

"He was pretty smart."

"Yeah," said Dean, deflating a little. "He was, wasn't he."

"We gotta be more careful," said Sam. "The demons don't disappear when we kill them, and we're gonna be leaving a lot more bodies in our wake if this keeps up."

"Yeah, what the hell is that about, anyway?" asked Dean. "Like a fuckin' demon party, never seen anything like it in all the years we've been doin' this. Ain't the first time we got cops on our tail, but it sure as hell is the first time we had to deal with a freakin' country-wide fiasco. Now everybody thinks we're fuckin' serial killers."

"Well, can you blame them?" asked Sam. "It's not like they know, and they aren't going to believe us if we tell them."

"Yeah, they'll lock us up in the fuckin' loony bin," said Dean. "Maybe keep our noses clean for a while, what do you think?"

"I don't think it's up to us," said Sam. 

Dean nodded.

"The hits just keep on comin'," he said.

***

They drove as far as possible out of state before pulling into a motel.

"Last thing we need's the press on our ass," Dean reasoned, and Sam had to agree.

They were cleaning their guns when there was a knock on the door.

"Better hide that shit before the maid sees it," said Dean, and Sam threw the coverlet of the bed over the pieces.

Dean opened the door and almost collapsed in relief.

"Bobby," he said. "How'd you find us?"

"Oh, I don't know," groused Bobby, elbowing his way into the room. "You were in the _newspapers_ , and then following a loud black car - not exactly inconspicious."

"Why don't you come on in," said Dean, closing the door behind him.

"Glad to see you, Bobby," said Sam. "You got anything for us?"

"Just that this thing is lighting up the entire damned Pacific Northwest," said Bobby. "And the East Coast. And Florida, but, you know. That's Florida."

"We can't kill every demon in the continental US, Bobby," said Dean. "We're shit-tired as it is."

"I know," said Bobby. "I got other hunters on it. But the two of you have _got_ to keep a lid on this shit! What the hell happened back there?"

Dean gave him an abbreviated recap of the situation, and Bobby's hackles went down.

A little.

"Okay, I get why you're so pissed," he said. "You kids would do anything for each other. But let's _try_ to keep things civilized? Last thing we need is to have the two of you behind bars, least of all where the press is concerned."

"So what's the deal, Bobby?" asked Dean. "What's going on? Why are demons suddenly popping up all over the country like a big fuckin' game of Whack-A-Mole?"

"Yeah," said Sam. "And why are they only possessing drug dealers and murderers now?"

Bobby shrugged.

"Guess it's easier for a demon to possess somebody evil?" he suggested. "I don't know. I do know that something big's coming. They're all here gettin' ready for something."

"Something?" asked Dean. "Something like what?"

"Beats me," said Bobby. "I'm still looking into it. But you boys had better be ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is tougher than originally anticipated! I'm removing a lot of the stuff from the film that would be considered offensive, changing some characters around, etc. but the basic idea is still there. Hope you all enjoy it!


	4. Firefight

Smecker stood in the middle of the white room, surrounded by bodies.

"Hell," he said.

All the bodies had pennies over their eyes.

Smecker rubbed his forehead.

"What's the symbology there?" asked Greenly.

Smecker glanced at him.

"I think the word you're looking for is _symbolism,_ " he sneered. "What is the _sssssymbolism_ there?"

Smecker sighed.

"In Greek and Roman mythology, when you died you would have to pay the toll to Charon, the boatman who ferried you across to the gates of judgment. This made sure the dead came to atone for what they did during their lives, Detective."

Smecker walked through the room. There were nine bodies all told, and he knelt down to examine one of them.

"I've seen these burn marks before," he said. "These guys were using silencers."

He stood and thought about it for a while.

"Television," he muttered. "Television is the reason for this. _Bad_ television."

"What do you mean?" asked Greenly.

"This James Bond shit doesn't happen in real life," said Smecker. "These guys are part of the mob. The ones before, at the bar? Peons. Little fish."

"So...the bad guys are killing each other?" ventured Greenly.

"That is what you might think," said Smecker. "So the question here is: do we do our job, or get ethical?"

***

Sam and Dean stood side-by-side in the elevator.

"Ready?" Dean asked Sam. 

His brother nodded.

They burst into the room, guns blazing, and mowed down every black-eyed demon standing there.

Among the dead, they knelt down.

" _And shepherds we shall be,_

_for thee, my Lord, for thee._

_Power hath descended forth from thy hand_

_that our feet may swiftly carry out thy command._

_So we shall flow a river forth to thee_

_and teeming with souls shall it ever be._

_E nomini patri, et Fili e spiritu sancti._

The brothers placed coins on their eyes, and walked out of the room.

***

"Oh," said Smecker, wide-eyed. "It looks like we've got ourselves a cowboy."

***

The demons appear to have an ace in the hole.

A man in a long trenchcoat walks out, in chains. 

The demons approach and free him.

His face is in shadow.

Draped behind him are two enormous, long, black wings.

***

Smecker sat on the balls of his feet in front of a sprawling suburban lawn.

There are bullet holes in all the cars around him, as well as the house in front of him.

Bullet casings litter the entire street.

"Here's what happened," he said.

***

Sam and Dean destroyed every demon in the house.

They stepped out onto the front porch to see the angel standing there.

Their faces registered stunned incredulity.

Then Dean, in a strangled voice of half-hope, said:

"Cas?"

***

"Now they are staring at six guys with guns drawn!" said Smecker. "It was a fucking ambush. And this was a fucking bomb dropping in Beaver Cleaverville! For a few seconds this place was Armageddon! _There was a firefight!_ "

He listened to the classical music in his earphones, and directed the firefight as if he were an orchestra conductor.

***

The angel's cold blue stare did not change.

He took expert, lethal aim.

He shot at them, but somehow every bullet seemed to miss.

Then he looked down at his guns as if they had somehow betrayed him.

"Cas, this isn't you," Dean said, walking forward. "Fight this!"

Sam got off a shot, enough to wing the angel but not kill him.

Castiel watched his own blood fall to the ground.

"No!" he shouted, staring at the blood. "No! No!"

"Angel," said Dean, and wrapped his arms around Castiel. "My angel. If you're gonna kill me, you better fuckin' do it right now, Cas."

Castiel blinked down at the man holding onto him for dear life.

***

"What if it was one guy with six guns?" asked Greenly.

"Shut up and let me do the thinking around here, genius," said Smecker. "Who were these guys, anyway?"

"Enforcers," said Greenly. "Having a poker tournament, I guess."

"Shit," said Smecker. "Like somebody's been cleaning up the trash around here. Vigilantes..."

The front door of the house swung open.

"We got one survivor," said Chaffey, pushing a man out the door, who stumbled and almost fell onto the lawn. "Said it was two guys, talked a lot of Latin."

"Latin," repeated Smecker.

His eyes glazed over.

"Can you get the station on the horn?" he asked. "I got some questions about those Winchester boys."

***

Dean moaned as he sank into Castiel's tight heat.

His great, black wings were shaking, and his head was thrown back, teeth gritted as he tossed his head from side to side.

"That's right, angel," snarled Dean into the skin of his neck, as he fucked him against the pool table while Sam kept watch outside. "Never fuckin' gonna forget me again, are you? You branded me yours, remember? I'm gonna mark you up."

"Yes, Dean," panted Castiel. "Dean - Dean - _Dean!_ "

***

Outside, the porch light above Sam's head exploded outward.

Sam nonchalantly brushed the shards from his brown cloth jacket with a smirk.

***

Smecker stumbled out of the gay bar early in the morning, barely sober enough to think.

He saw a Catholic church down the street, and walked toward it with a heavy step.

***

"When was your last confession, my son?"

"Christ, I've - I - I've never confessed," Smecker admitted. "But I've come here for advice, not salvation."

"Why have you come to a church for council if you're not religious?"

"Why have I come to a church? I never have before," said Smecker, leaning his head against the grate. "I guess I just...I felt I should."

"What is it, my son?"

"It's ethics," said Smecker. "I put evil men behind bars, but the law has miles of red tape and loopholes for these...cocksuckers to slip through. I've found out there are these two young men who fix the situation with an iron fist. As if they have God's permission. But what they do is wrong and I should arrest them...technically."

"God's permission?" asked the priest. "God doesn't..."

"But in this day and age, I believe what they do is necessary," said Smecker, insistent. "I believe it is correct."

"You believe?" asked the priest.

"Yes."

"You feel?" asked the priest.

"Yes."

"A soul is what gives you feelings. Happiness, guilt, right or wrong. It is a conduit through which the Lord speaks to us. You felt that your answers would be here in the house of God today. You feel these men are necessary. The Lord has spoken to you twice this day."

"Has he now," said Smecker, in a sarcastic tone.

"It is easy to be sarcastic about religion," said the priest. "It is harder to take small hints from God, your feelings and listen to them...to take a stand. Those who do not act are in a constant state of ethical indecision."

"I want to stand for what I believe in, Father," said Smecker.

"Then you must find out what your beliefs are."

"I believe these young men are right."

"You know them personally?"

"Yes."

"Do you think they would harm an innocent man for any reason?"

"No, they would never do that."

"I'm beginning to see," said Smecker. "I've been doing my job...well, for fifteen years, and it's just not enough. All the things I wish I could do, these guys are doing. Millions of dollars in tax payers' money wasted on shit like wire taps and surveillance. These boys go in and take care of it for the price of a bullet. What do you think I should do? Because I'm a law man."

"The laws of God are higher than the laws of man," said the priest.

"Yes, yes!" said Smecker, excited. "I was thinking that, too! No. I was feeling it! And all I needed was to hear you say it. Thank you, Father."

Smecker got out of the booth.

"Goodbye, amen," he said, as he made his way out of the church.

Sam and Dean Winchester, who had been praying in the back pew in the company of their angel, looked up at the priest and smiled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I know Il Duce is their dad in the movie, but Cas fit this character better, and I also hate John Winchester with a passion only outdone by my hatred of Mary. So Castiel it is.


	5. Courtroom

"So what's next?" asked Sam.

Dean took a long drink of his beer, as Castiel watched him from the shadows.

"We're taking down Crowley. Tonight."

***

"Who do all these guys work for?" Smecker asked Greenly, back at the station.

"Think the mob boss is named Crowley," said Greenly. "Lives up on the ridge - hey, where are you going?"

"Got something to do," said Smecker, rushing out of the station.

***

Sam and Dean were handcuffed to chairs and bleeding.

"Fuckin' stupid," snarled one of the demons, "thinking you can break in here. We broke your angel for you once, don't think we won't do it again. Will love to hear you scream and cry as he cuts your pretty little eyes out."

"Fuck you," Dean spat. "You think Cas is still on your side?"

Sam's face split in an eerie grin.

For the first time, the demons seemed like they were beginning to have doubts.

Suddenly, the chairs were overturned and Dean waved his freed hands in the demon's face.

"Leave us alone too long with a lockpick," he said, "what are you gonna do?"

The brothers killed every demon in the room.

They knelt down and said the prayer, covering the eyes of the corpses with pennies.

Castiel emerged from the shadows then. 

"The house is clear," he said, his eyes a storm. "Crowley is still free, but I see retribution in his future. Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord."

Dean looked up at him.

"How far are we going with this, Cas?" he asked.

"The question is not 'how far'," Castiel replied. "The question is, do you possess the constitution, the depth to go as far as is needed?"

He cupped Dean's face tenderly in his hand.

***

The courtroom was filled with reporters. 

Smecker guided Sam, Dean, and Castiel inside.

Crowley was to be tried by a jury of his peers. 

Not that there was any such thing, at least in Dean's opinion.

"Look at his charisma," said one reporter. "He's the next John Gotti."

"He's going to walk," agreed another.

Suddenly, the doors burst open.

"All media people to the back!" shouted Sam, gun raised.

"You people have been chosen to reveal our existence to the world," Castiel announced. "You will witness what will happen here today and you will tell of it afterwards."

Crowley, for his part, looked shit-scared.

"Fuckin' _do something!_ " he shouted, terrified.

Dean and Sam jumped up on the tables.

"Now, you will receive us," said Sam.

"We do not ask for your poor, or your hungry," said Dean.

"We do not want your tired and sick," Sam added.

"It is your corrupt we claim," said Dean.

"It is your evil, who will be sought by us," said Sam.

"With every breath, we shall hunt them down," said Dean.

"Each day we will spill their blood until it rains from the skies," said Sam.

"Do not kill, do not rape, do not steal," said Dean. "These are principles which every man of faith can embrace."

"These are not polite suggestions," said Sam. "They are codes of behavior and those that ignore them will pay the dearest cost."

"There are varying degrees of evil," said Dean. "We urge you lesser forms of filth not to push the bounds and cross over into true corruption...into our domain."

"For if you do," said Sam, "there will come the day when you look behind you and you see we three. And on that day you will reap it."

"And we will send you to whatever God you wish," Dean finished.

Sam and Dean leaped off of the tables and joined Castiel beside Crowley.

They drew their guns and Castiel drew his blade.

They all recited the prayer in unison.

Then, as the courtroom watched in horror, they destroyed him.

***

Smecker led them outside in handcuffs with bags over their heads.

Then, when they were outside, he freed the three of them.

"Disappear," he advised them. "Keep doing what you do."

Sam and Dean nodded their heads to him, while Castiel inclined his as well.

Then they made a break for it, where the Impala was waiting.

Smecker watched them get in and drive away, the long black car moving down the street.

He watched the car turn the corner in the late afternoon sunlight.

"Godspeed," he said, and smiled.


	6. Author's Note

I hated writing this a lot. I am glad it is over. I'll go back to writing that feels more like writing after this experience.

It's incredible how -phobic and racist the script is, much of which I had forgotten. The loyalty of the brothers and the supernatural elements of Boondock Saints seemed similar enough to the show that I thought it might be an interesting exercise. Unfortunately it felt more like homework.

Hope you all enjoyed it anyway, it's a good film worth watching, if extremely outdated by this point in time.


End file.
